


Pupils Blown

by WeaglesAndBrobeans



Series: A Very Capitals Collection [7]
Category: Hockey - Fandom, NHL - Fandom, Washington Capitals - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Mostly TJ and Lauren being BA, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Protective Team, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:46:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaglesAndBrobeans/pseuds/WeaglesAndBrobeans
Summary: “Slow down V, slow down,” Oshie coaxed. After Jakub’s shaky attempt at a deep breath filtered through the line, Oshie spoke again. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”“I think, I think somebody roofied me or something. I’m just, I’m not drunk Osh. I swear I had like two drinks. But something, I’ve never felt, god Osh. I’m tripping man.”The moment Vrana mentioned the possibility of being drugged, Oshie had sprung to his feet.





	1. The Call

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: as the tags show, this story contains non-consensual drug abuse and minior violence.

T.J. had just settled on the couch next to his wife when the call came. The week had worn him thin as he worked to get back into peak condition following his return from IR. Glass of wine in hand, wife tucked under his arm, and kids over with the Carlson’s, he’d been sorely tempted to ignore it. But something in his gut told him otherwise. Cringing, he looked to Lauren, eyes asking for permission. 

“At least see who it is,” she graciously offered.

His heart jolted as he peered down at the screen. Glaring brightly up at him in bold white lettering was Jakub Vrana’s caller ID. Vrana never called.

“It’s V,” T.J. shared and Lauren’s eyebrows shot up. She knew just as well that the Capitals darling hated talking on the phone. 

“Drunk dial?” she suggested, but one glance at the clock told them both it was far too early in the night for Vrana to be at that level of wasted. 

Before his phone could jump to voicemail, T.J. decided it was probably best that he take the call.

“He V what’s up?”

His greeting was met with a moment of ragged breathing. And for a moment, the lack of response tempted him to assume the call was just a prank or a butt-dial. For a moment. 

The moment shattered when Jakub’s voice carried over the line in a panicked whine.

“Osh! Something… something’s not right. I didn’t know who to call, but you were my last text and I just clicked it, but fuck T.J. I’m fucked. I need, I need help. Osh, oh my god. Oh my god!”

As the confusing and frightening call came through, T.J. had tensed, muscles coiled in concern and a desire to do something for his distressed teammate. He could feel Lauren’s hand settle on his thigh, a gesture of concern as she watched her husband respond to the clearly unsettling phone call.  
“Slow down V. Slow down,” T.J. coaxed the panicked young forward.

After Jakub’s shaky attempt at a deep breath filtered through the line, T.J. spoke again. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”  
“I think, I think somebody roofied me or something. I’m just, I’m not drunk Osh. I swear I had like two drinks. But something, I’ve never felt, god Osh. I’m tripping man.”

The moment Vrana mentioned the possibility of being drugged, T.J. had sprung to his feet, rushing to the coat closet to grab his jacket and some shoes.  
“Okay, where are you Jakub?”

Another whine crossed the line. “Umm, it’s Echostage. There’s. There’s so many people here Osh. And I don’t know who, or or why. I just. I need help Oshie,” a choked sob rang out.

T.J. had pulled his shoes on and was tugging on the zipper to his windbreaker when Lauren tugged at his elbow, eyebrows dipped low in concern. Looking at his wife, a thought struck T.J. 

“Vrana thinks somebody drugged his drink. Lauren, I don’t have a fucking clue what to do. I didn’t even know people did that shit to guys. What should he do?”

T.J. had met Lauren in college. He’d heard the stories of her friends trying to recover from nights like the one Vrana was currently experiencing. He was banking on her being experienced enough to have some discernment where he was lacking. 

The same urgency that had struck T.J. seemed to hit Lauren. The blonde grabbed the phone before heading towards the coat closet herself. 

“Jakub sweetie, this is Lauren,” she cooed over the phone. “Are you dizzy? Or foggy?”

“Umm I just feel like, I can’t think. But yah, sometimes everything tips.”

Shoving the phone between her ear and shoulder, Lauren bent forward to begin lacing up her winter boots. 

“Okay. Honey you need to head towards the exit. Find a girl who’s alone for me okay? And let me talk to her.”

T.J. stared, puzzled, as his wife stood and shrugged on her own coat. Catching his confusion she smothered the phone to her shoulder to muffle her explanation.

“A woman will be more likely to help him if he starts getting confused or dizzy before we can make it there. Now grab the keys, we need to hurry. He’s probably had it in his system for some time if he’s noticing symptoms which means we’re on borrowed time.”

The huge hockey player yelped at the last statement, eyes widening. “He’s not, this won’t fucking kill him will it?!”

She huffed and shoved him towards the door.

“Probably not. He was able to make the phone call which is really good news. But whoever did this wants him malleable and unconscious. Whatever their reason, it won’t be anything good.”

Moments later, T.J. was white knuckling the steering wheel as he navigated the Friday night crowds flooding the streets of downtown DC. To his right, Lauren sat commanding the situation.


	2. Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vrana had found a random woman who immediately took charge of him once Lauren explained the situation.

Vrana had found a random woman who immediately took charge of him once Lauren explained the situation.

The tall, broad-shouldered brunette took one look at Vrana’s blown pupils and knew what they were dealing with. Having had several friends in the same situation before, she didn’t hesitate to lend her aid.The whole situation infuriated her. As she made plans to meet his friends outside the club, the young Czech’s head dipped lower and lower. He’d stopped speaking a few minutes after he handed her the phone, and he’d begun to lose sense of his faculties, hands floating strangely, feet tripping over nothing. 

The woman guided Jakub with a sense of urgency; any minute now and she wouldn’t be able to help. He was pure muscle after all. As she maneuvered the blonde towards the doors, he swayed dangerously several times. Most of the people surrounding them paid no mind, focused on their own drinks, and dancing. A few gave the pair a curious glance, but as they made their way out, what caught her eye was the couple that had slowly followed their path towards the door. She would stop to adjust her grip and they would slow to a stop and occupy themselves.

Her initial thought had been to wonder at what kind of kinky shit was going down if this couple had drugged the young man, but then she started with a thought and looked between the drowsy young man and the creepy couple. Dots began to connect.The girl on the phone had insisted that unless things turned drastic, she avoid calling the cops or drawing undo attention to the young man. She didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a local celebrity of sorts.

“Hey honey,” she called into Jakub’s ear, voice carrying over the pulsing music of the club. “Are you famous? A musician or an athlete or something?”

The boy’s eyes wouldn’t focus, but he seemed to have heard her words. Clumsily attempting to point at his chest, he managed to respond. “Cha, ‘m a, champ.” 

Everything clicked into place. This boy was one of the Washington Capitals. You couldn’t have lived in DC last spring and not taken note of the city celebrating as their hockey team won their first championship. She could probably name one or two players on that team, but the whole situation suddenly made more sense. His celebrity status definitely made him a desirable target for drug assault.

“Who’re you?” he slurred out. And that. That was not good.

“I’m Jen. I’m a friend and I’m helping you get home safely. Remember Lauren told you to stay with me until she comes?”

Those blue eyes seemed even hazier than when he’d first approached as they scrunched up in confusion. Jen picked up her pace, but just as they reached the doors, a large hand gripped her upper arm.

Her stomach sank as she looked up to see the hovering couple had chosen that moment to approach.


	3. Life-Threatening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was pure idiocy, asking to come along – inserting herself into a life-threatening scenario for some famous athlete who didn’t even know her. But Lauren had said they were fifteen minutes out which meant that any minute, she and her husband would be present as well. Hopefully Lauren’s husband was a hockey player too, because they could really use the muscle.

The grip on Jen’s arm was bruisingly tight as the man loomed over her. 

“I think you’d better let us take it from here now,” he hissed into her ear as his companion slipped in on Jakub’s right side. The blonde, swayed, too far gone to understand the situation.

“I think you should fuck off,” Jen hissed right back. It earned an aggressive shake of her arm and a shove that jostled both Jen and Jakub. 

“You misunderstand,” he threatened, slipping the sharp edge of a knife against her back. “This isn’t up to you.”

The blade had Jen tensing, heart pounding as her mind raced to figure out how she was going to get out of this. One thing she was set on was her resolve to stick with Jakub until help arrived. She’d been left to fend for herself in the past and she swore she would never leave someone else feeling the way that she had.

“Okay, but if you leave me here, I’m calling security.” It was pure idiocy, asking to come along – inserting herself into a life-threatening scenario for some famous athlete who didn’t even know her. But Lauren had said they were fifteen minutes out which meant that any minute, she and her husband would be present as well. Hopefully Lauren’s husband was a hockey player too, because they could really use the muscle.

“Well we can’t have that, now can we?” sneered the man. “You’re going to let go of Vrana and Emma here is going to guide him out in front of us. You and I will follow the happy couple out of the club. That’s when I’ll decide whether to slit your throat in the parking garage or find another use for you.”

Jen could feel her frame shaking with fear. Her hesitation to move or speak led to the knife digging more aggressively against her back. Slipping out from under Jakub’s arm, she paused as Emma, the man’s companion, pulled the pliant hockey player against her side instead.

Tears burned in her eyes as the two stepped out in front. The tall athletic blonde, leaned heavily into his captor, oblivious of the peril he was now in. He’d not spoken since he’d asked Jen who she was and the cool blue of his eyes was now barely visible from where it was smothered behind blown wide pupils. His absolute compliance unnerved her as she watched him lilt to the left or right as Emma guided him through the throng of people.

Jen and the man stepped in behind the others, close enough to intervene should anything happen. 

“So darling,” he purred. Jen felt ill. “Are you a big fan of Mr. Vrana? Hoping to fuck a Stanley Cup champion tonight?” 

Bristling, she leveled a glare at him and snarled. “I don’t even follow hockey. A mutual friend asked me to get him home safely tonight.”

His grin curled and actually managed to shadow his face. “And you’re doing such a wonderful job of it,” he cooed. The tone crawled down her spine. This man was sick in the head. She occupied herself by envisioning all the ways she could chop his balls off. 

It wasn’t long before a blast of cold winter air swept into the room. Emma and Jakub had reached the exit and were making their way out of the club. Jen’s heart sank. Lauren and her husband were too late.


	4. Discernment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Teej, something’s not right,” Lauren cautioned before her husband could leap from the vehicle. “I don’t think that’s the girl I spoke with.”

Lauren Oshie had a gift. She knew when her girls hadn’t cleaned their rooms like she’d asked and she didn’t even have to check. She knew when the other WAG’s were making plans without her. She knew when T.J. was hiding an injury. She’d never struggled with discernment even from a young age.

So when she and T.J. pulled up in front of Echostage and T.J. exclaimed in relief at the sight of Vrana, she didn’t feel the same. Looking at the pair, who weren’t waiting but continuing down the sidewalk, a chill trickled down her back. 

“Teej, something’s not right,” Lauren cautioned before her husband could leap from the vehicle. “I don’t think that’s the girl I spoke with.”

T.J. paused and looked questioningly at his wife. He’d come to trust her intuition over the years, but how could she possibly know what the woman on the other line looked like? He didn’t recall her asking for that information.

“Maybe she tapped out and let a friend stand with him,” he suggested. But the explanation felt hollow and unlikely to both the Oshie’s. 

Thinking on her feet, the blonde concocted a plan to navigate her hesitancy. “Wait by the car, I want to see something.”

Without giving T.J. a chance to protest, she made her way towards Jakub and his escort. She began slowly, wobbling slightly and then faking a trip and pairing it with a giggle. T.J. climbed out of the car, but kept his distance as his wife played her part. 

It wasn’t long before she allowed herself to bump into the pair from behind and wrap her arm around Vrana’s neck. 

“Ohmygod Vranaaaaa,” she exclaimed with a false slur. “Can we hang tonight? That would be a dreaaaammm. Please? Oh I can give you the time of your liiffeee.”  
If T.J.’s heart hadn’t been pounding with worry for the past half an hour, he would’ve been rolling with laughter at Lauren’s performance. Everything about it was completely out of character for the blonde. 

Lauren leaned forward, hand palming possessively at Vrana’s chest. 

“Actually,” interrupted the redhead who had been leading Vrana from the club. “He’s already decided who he wants to be with tonight and it’s me.” 

That did it. With Vrana completely spaced out and hazy eyed, and this woman now behaving like she’s his date, it seemed to confirm Lauren’s suspicions. This couldn’t be the woman from the phone. Standing up straight, shoulders squared, Lauren turned to face the stranger. Her cool eyes turned to ice as she looked over the thin woman. 

“And who the fuck are you” spat Lauren. 

The sudden shift in demeanor completely caught the woman off guard. Eyes widening, she tensed in fear. But rather than retreating, she tightened her hold and sent a panicked glance over Lauren’s shoulder. Before Lauren could turn to investigate, a commotion broke out. 

Spinning around she took in the sight of her husband grappling with a muscular man on the cold DC sidewalk.


	5. Playground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playground rules stated clearly that the smaller opponent didn’t have any rules and Oshie swore by it.

Does Oshie drop the mitts from time to time and avenge a teammate? Absolutely. Is it his favorite thing? Hell no. 

But Oshie does it. He knows he’s got to stick up for his boys from time to time. So when he saw a large man behind Lauren, Vrana and that strange lady, suddenly shove a girl to the pavement and lunge towards T.J.’s wife? Let’s say he didn’t hesitate. 

The moment the girl hit the ground he was running. The moment the man turned towards Lauren, T.J. was already bearing down. With a final lunge he lowered his shoulder hoping to lay the most illegal hit he could on this bastard. He didn’t have the momentum that could be attained on skates, but he certainly had the adrenaline. 

The winger wasn’t huge, standing at 5’11, just over 6 feet on skates, and under 200 pounds at that, but he knew how to use his body. It made him lethal on the ice, and it completely knocked the wind out of the massive stranger he’d just laid into. The two tumbled to the ground, and T.J. immediately began throwing punches. (Playground rules stated clearly that the smaller opponent didn’t have any rules and Oshie swore by it). 

It didn’t take long for the stranger to recover from the shock of T.J.’s attack. He threw his arms up in defense and jerked in an attempt to dislodge the raging hockey player. He hooked his foot behind T.J.’s and rolled to switch their positions. As the man managed to flip him, T.J. felt the side of his head crack into the pavement. He could immediately feel the warm sticky flow of blood as it escaped a gash on his cheekbone. 

Dazed, T.J. barely heard his wife’s alarmed cry. Blow after blow rained down on him, to his chest and torso and head. Something inside of him told him to get up and fight – no ref was going to intervene and his wife’s wellbeing was on the line. 

Thrusting up his knee, he managed to catch the man in the abdomen with a powerful blow. It was enough for Oshie to scramble back and regain his bearings. Hands ready, T.J. panted for a moment anticipating his opponent’s next attack. 

But it never came. The man pulled himself to his feet, but when his eyes settled on the tattered young man, his eyes widened in recognition. 

“Oshie? What the fuck?” his eyes landed on the cuts and bruises, filling with concern, perhaps regret. T.J. didn’t give a shit. Fan or not, this man had already thrown a woman to the ground and attempted to attack the love of his life. He could go to hell. 

“No,” T.J. bit out, tone laced with venom. “You’re going to fucking walk away is what you’re going to do. I don’t want to hear it.”

For a moment, hesitancy swept over the man’s face, but it quickly gave way to a sinister grin. “Oh, but Timothy, we’re going on a little field trip. Vrana and Emily and I. Of course I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”


	6. Unraveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do what you want Osh babe,” he sneered. “But no help will arrive before somebody gets hurt. It’s your choice though. What’s it gonna be?” he growled.  
> T.J. paled at the threat. As the Washingtonian slowly lifted his hands between himself and the much larger man, they began to shake.

T.J. stared hard at the man, then shifted his gaze to his wife and Vrana. The redhead, Emily his mind supplied, kept tugging the drowsy hockey player closer in, but Lauren continuously secured her grip and drew him back to herself. It was a subtle battle of wills as the two women tried to gain control without taking their eyes off of the standoff happening between their men  
.  
After a heartbeat or two, Oshie decided to respond to this maniac. He was tired. He was done. This was not what he had in mind for his evening off.  
Oshie squared his shoulders and wiped the back of his hand across his cheek where the cut was still dribbling with blood. 

He snapped at the larger man. “I’m not going anywhere and Jakub is certainly not going anywhere. We’re in downtown DC. What makes you think that if I wanted to draw attention to us, I wouldn’t have a crowd of witnesses swarming? You lose, okay? So my wife and I, and my buddy V, we’re going to be leaving.”

He stepped towards Vrana and the two women, but paused when he saw a flash of metal. All of Oshie’s bravado stuttered to a halt as the man loomed, brandishing his knife threateningly.

“Do what you want Osh babe,” he sneered. “But no help will arrive before somebody gets hurt. It’s your choice though. What’s it gonna be?” he growled.

T.J. paled at the threat. As the Washingtonian slowly lifted his hands between himself and the much larger man, they began to shake. He’d been under high pressure before. But this wasn’t hockey. This wasn’t requesting Lauren’s hand in marriage. This wasn’t his baby Lyla in the hands of competent doctors and experts. 

This man was unpredictable and clearly volatile. And Oshie didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave wounded. But Lauren. His Lauren. He couldn’t let any harm come to her either.   
Decision made, Oshie lunged forward hoping to catch the man off guard. 

Simultaneously several things unraveled.   
Oshie’s arms wrapped around the mans legs, sending him careening backwards for the second time in short sequence. 

As the two collapsed in a violent tangle of limbs, Vrana suddenly dropped fast and hard as well.   
The woman, Emily, stepped back not wanting to be pulled down by the blonde but Lauren held tightly hoping to slow his fall. 

Her knee scraped on the pavement as his limp form collapsed into her much smaller frame. Panting from her efforts and very much pinned below the 6 foot hockey player, Lauren twisted to reach out her hand hoping to find a pulse. 

What she found was an erratic beat speeding and slowing. Not good news. Yet to her relief, when she shifted her palm to hover above his mouth she found a strong flow of breath. 

Regardless this was now clearly beyond their capacity to handle on their own. Sliding her phone out she quickly dialed 9-1-1, but before the operator could respond a familiar cry of pain rang out.


	7. Blood on His Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!” She began to scream out as her entire frame shook with panic and horror and grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting at 1am for anyone else who is wide awake after a crappy and uninspiring New Year’s Eve party.

Lauren has heard T.J. yell in pain before. She’d heard him cry out sharply as he knelt to block a particularly forceful slap shot. She’d heard him groan and whimper as he suffered through concussions. She’d heard his cry of rage as he stubbed his toe in the living room. But she’d never heard him cry out quite like this. 

This scream of pain was laced with fear. This cry of agony was shaken with panic. 

The professional hockey player scrambled backwards, choking on a sob and cursing. Immediately Lauren’s eyes sought out what was ailing her husband. 

The giveaway was the crimson quickly bubbling up through his fingers as they clamped tightly onto his side. T.J. was bleeding out. T.J. had been cut. 

Flashes of the one time Lauren had seen a player leave the ice cut by a skate blade flooded her mind. But there wasn’t a trainer rushing forward with a towel. No paramedics were ready at the wave of a hand. 

For a moment everything stilled. Lauren could see the redhead in her peripheral as the woman’s hands flew to her mouth in horror. Even the man who’d brought out the knife and threatened them in the first place seemed to freeze in the wake of what he’d done. 

Yet pinned beneath Vrana, who remained unconscious, Lauren felt panic swell up in her throat. 

“T.J. please!” She choked out as tears began to descend her cheeks. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!” She began to scream out as her entire frame shook with panic and horror and grief. 

As the blonde began to lose control, the meltdown stirred the attacker from his own shock. The realization set in that he’d put himself in a dire situation. 

He watched in resignation as his girlfriend Emily turned and sprinted as far and as fast as she could sending a new rage sweeping through his bones. 

Oshie and his woman had fucked everything up. He’d planned everything so carefully and yet here he was now with literal blood on his hands. He knew what he needed to do. 

Turning towards the only witness, he scooped up the bloodied knife from where it had fallen and stepped menacingly towards the screaming woman. 

What he never saw coming was the brunette who he’d shoved aside not minutes before. He never saw the rock arching towards the back of his skull as she swung her fist with all of her might.


	8. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “T.J. what happened to T.J.?” she demanded. “My husband, he was hurt, that man had stabbed him. He was bleeding. He was hurt. He needed, he needed help. He, he was bleeding, hurt. What happened? Did you help him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> This chapter describes a panic attack. If that could be triggering for you, please wait for the next chapter to be posted to carry on. I want to make sure you are cared for first and foremost.

For the first time in their chaotic evening, events turned in their favor. Jen watched as the man collapsed to the pavement. She found herself hoping he’d stay still. He did. Blood trickled from where the rock had struck his skull. Part of her felt sick. Part of her felt dizzy with relief.

She immediately leapt to the side of the injured man and pressed her palm against the knife wound. A small whimper fell from his lips at the pressure, but she knew it had to be done. It had to have been five years or more since her last first aid class, but stemming the bleed seemed like an obvious course of action. Glancing towards the blonde, Lauren she assumed from the earlier phone call, Jen noted the phone in her hand. Jen was free to focus on this gash then. 

 

The realization that help had come cut into Lauren’s terror-induced panic attack and she finally noted the urgent voice of a 9-1-1 operator drifting from her phone. Shakily, she lifted the device to ear.

“Hello?” she breathed out. The woman’s voice rang through with strength yet somehow still felt gentle. It felt safe. Lauren answered the operator’s questions as best as she could, but she felt her mind drifting. The cold of the night began to settle into her bones, despite the weight of Jakub draped over her. Her hands trembled and her vision swam. Something in the back of her mind told her quietly that she was going into shock. But there wasn’t anything she could think to do.   
Blue and red lights flashed in the distance and in her peripheral, the silhouette of their hero kneeling over her injured husband flickered. After that, nothing.

 

Lauren awoke to shouts, and cameras flashing, and sirens ringing. She reeled at the sensory overload. A silver blanket had been tucked around her tightly and a pair of hands were prodding at her temple. For a brief moment, Lauren relished in the coziness of her hazy state. It didn’t last long though. A rock poked at her back, the blanket crinkled and scratched at her collarbone. The moment everything came flooding back to her she sat up in alarm. 

“T.J.!” she screamed, eyes frantically searching for her love. Immediately, several paramedics joined the man who’d been checking her for injury.

“Ma’am we’re here to help you. We just need you to stay calm,” he began as the others hovered, wanting to give her space, but also intent on jumping in if she lost control. “Can you tell me your name please?”

Lauren didn’t have time for trivial questions. Her entire world was T.J. Oshie and he was her only concern. 

“T.J. what happened to T.J.?” she demanded. “My husband, he was hurt, that man had stabbed him. He was bleeding. He was hurt. He needed, he needed help. He, he was bleeding, hurt. What happened? Did you help him?” 

Tears began to course down her cheeks as she fell into a second panic attack. Everything blurred out, morphing as the world before her seemed to stretch further and further away before plunging and seeming far, far too close. The concerned voices seemed miles away and all she could see was red. “Please, please, please, please,” she chanted through choked sobs. “Is he okay? Please tell me he’s okay.” 

Her concern heightened moment by moment as her mind fixated on the possibility that he could be gone. And it was enough to send her spiraling because she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t raise the girls alone. She couldn’t look at little Leni and not see T.J. looking back at her. She couldn’t walk the streets of D.C. and not feel the gaping hole in her chest. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. 

Lauren curled in on herself as shivers wracked her body. Her tears began to slow and eventually the paramedic’s words began to filter through.

“You’re going to be okay.”

“Your husband is in good hands.”

“Nobody’s gone.”

“Everyone is safe now.”

“Your husband is okay.”

“Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Slowly she uncurled and her breaths came in even pulls instead of scattered chaotic gulps. Looking up at the concerned face of the paramedic, she managed to ask one more time.

“T.J. is, he’s okay?”

The man smiled kindly. “Your husband is already being rushed to the nearest hospital. He received excellent first aid from your friend and we’re going to keep an eye on him and do the best we can,” he explained slowly and calmly. “Now ma’am, are you hurt at all? Your knee is bleeding. Is anything else hurt?”

Lauren calmed significantly knowing that T.J. was in good hands. As she stared blankly at her knee, sticky with blood, she realized there was one more person she needed to fret over. 

“I’m okay. I’m not hurt. I fell trying to help my friend. He was drugged tonight and we were trying to get him help. Is he going to be okay? His heart was, it was racing.”

Nodding the paramedic leaned back and gestured to where another pair of medics were lifting a stretcher into the back of an ambulance. 

“He is stable. Thank you for letting us know he’s been drugged. We’ll check his blood stream as soon as he reaches the hospital.”

Lauren sat for a moment, unsure of what to do with herself. Her body sagged under the weight of heightened anxiety colliding with immense relief. The emotions, the terror, the concern, it all seemed to be pulling at her. 

“I don’t think… I don’t think I should drive. Can I um, call someone? And can, can I get a ride to the hospital?”

A female paramedic who’d been hovering nearby crouched down in front of her and settled a hand on her knee. 

“Absolutely sweetheart. Do you need me to make the call?” 

Lauren nodded gratefully. She picked up her discarded phone and scrolled through her contacts. May as well take care of it in one fell swoop, she thought to herself before clicking John Carlson’s name and handing the phone to the kind woman.


	9. John Carlson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He quickly spotted the Oshie’s SUV and just beyond it, couldn’t miss the bright yellow tape standing out under the street lights. Something sour settled in John’s mouth as he realized he was looking at a crime scene. Something awful had happened and he felt certain it had everything to do with T.J. and Lauren.

The children had worn out and fallen asleep hours ago and the Carlson’s settled in the kitchen to battle out a fierce game of Settlers. The game had been tight, each taking the lead as rolls fell in their favor. With two points from the win and a single wheat away from completing the winning city, John tossed the pair of dice to the table. A five and a four. Just what he needed. Standing to holler in triumph, John danced in a circle as Gina rolled her eyes and threw her cards at the ridiculous man she chose to marry. His celebration cut short as his cellphone rang out, and just a glance at the caller ID sent a grin to his face.

Waggling the phone at Gina he giggled. “It’s Lauren. Can’t make it a single night without checking in on her girls.”

Pressing answer, he didn’t even wait for her greeting to heckle.

“Come on Lauren. Where’s the trust? Your girls are sound asleep dreaming of sugar plums and shit. It’s all good.”

Waiting for a laugh or a plea of self-defense, John felt something twinge in his chest when a voice –decidedly _not_ Lauren’s carried over the receiver.

“Sir, my name is Becca Caniff and I’m a paramedic with University Hospital. I’m calling to inform you that there has been an incident with Lauren and T.J. they are both currently stable and in good hands.”

The moment the woman introduced herself as a medic, John sat hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. His mind swam with questions and fears even as she encouraged that his friends were safe.

“Is T.J. there? Can I, can I talk to him?”

“Unfortunately Mr. Oshie is unavailable to speak right now. His wife Lauren requested that I call you. You have her kids right now?”

Sucking in a deep breath, John reached his hand out to hold Gina’s. She’d been waiting patiently, concern pulling at the corners of her lips, worry settled into her eyes as she watched her husband’s mood shift so suddenly. Anchored by her presence, John pushed on.

“Uh, yeah. We’ve got them. They are, the girls they’re good here, umm. I want to come down. Is Lauren, can Lauren talk?”

A moment later, Lauren’s watery voice carried over. “John?”

It’s amazing the relief that can come with a single word. Hearing her voice desterilized the concerning conversation; it put life back into the Oshie’s in John’s mind.

“Oh god, Lauren. Are you okay?”

A shaky wet laugh broke out in response, layered with fear and cynicism. It was anything, but reassuring.

“You don’t have to be,” encouraged John. “You don’t have to be. Um, the girls are asleep. They’re good for now. Do you need me to come? What do you need from me? Anything, just name it.”

They managed to forge through the difficult conversation. John, doing everything he could to comfort his dear friend’s wife, agreed to deal with their car and then head down to George Washington University hospital. Gina would stay with the girls.

Crawling out of the compact Uber he’d taken downtown, the tall defenseman shivered against the cold winter air. He quickly spotted the Oshie’s SUV and just beyond it, couldn’t miss the bright yellow tape standing out under the street lights. Something sour settled in John’s mouth as he realized he was looking at a crime scene. Something awful had happened and he felt certain it had everything to do with T.J. and Lauren.

With no desire to linger or speculate further, he marched to the car. Running his hand under the bumper, he felt the ridge of a key holder. At least something was going right. They’d all agreed to keep a spare on their cars after Mike Green stole the keys from Brooks Laich one night during a drunken escapade, throwing them into the Potomac and effectively leaving them stranded.

Pulling onto the congested streets he focused on breathing in and out slowly. His next stop was the hospital and it would be time for him to play at steady. He was coming to encourage and care for his friends, not the other way around. What they needed most right now was strong and steady and he intended on giving them just that.

Hospitals are the worst. Hospitals meant an injury too grave for the trainers to handle. Hospitals meant sickness and death. Hospitals meant miscarriages and unwanted surgeries. Hospitals are the worst.

The white walls and bright lights felt contradictory to the heaviness that hovered in the emergency room. People were clustered in small groups, hovering patiently and hoping for news that their nights might take a turn for the better. Some sat holding injuries close to their bodies as they waited their turn.

As John scanned the room he quickly realized Lauren wasn’t present. Shit. That meant she’d either stepped out or this was too serious for the ER. Checking in with the nurse confirmed his fears. John fumbled to return his ID to his wallet as the information rang in his head. He would find Lauren in the waiting room just outside of the critical care unit. T.J. needed critical care.

Quietly closing the door behind him, John stepped into the third floor waiting room and quickly spotted Lauren in the corner. The blonde had her feet tucked up onto her chair, forehead pressed to her knees. He couldn’t see her face, but she was wearing the same mustard yellow sweater she’d been wearing when she dropped the girls off just hours before.

“Hey Lauren,” he greeted softly as he approached. It took her a moment to register that someone was speaking to her, but when she did she unfolded slightly to sit up and look at her friend. She looked awful. The fabric stretched over her knee was torn and stained with blood. Her hair was rebelling messily and her makeup smudged down her cheeks from the cruel flood of tears. Lauren seemed tiny in that waiting room, tired and worn and worried.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted once more, now with her attention. Pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, he settled into the chair to her left. “What happened Lauren?” John asked pulling her close for a hug. As she relaxed, settling heavily into his shoulder, Lauren’s breath caught.

“We got a call,” she began, eyes clinching as her mind waded through the evenings events. “It was Vrana. Somebody drugged his drink.”

John tensed. Of all the scenarios his mind had conjured, none had included the young Czech. He wanted to shake her by the shoulders and demand more information. What the hell was going on? But, he knew patience would prove more effective, so he waited for her to carry on.

We said we’d pick him up. Get him home or to help if needed. But when we got there something was off. John, I don’t get it. I can’t figure it out. It was so weird and everything happened so quickly.”

Her breath was escalating as she processed the situation for the first time. John simply held her closer, stroking her back and whispering assurances. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She finally settled. “This woman was with Jakub, but I was sure she wasn’t the one who had agreed to care for him until we arrived. And so I outed her. But the next thing I knew, Teej and this man were fighting and I don’t even know. He kept saying he was taking Vrana and then he had a knife and Jakub passed out and then T.J. was screaming and he was bleeding and oh my god John. It was so bad, John, it was so bad.”

The tears did come then, as she relived those horrific moments in her mind. And John, now sitting with the details, felt ill and grieved himself.

The two sat in companionable silence, each fighting the demons in their own minds. But eventually news did come. T.J. was out of surgery – and it had gone remarkably well. Again, Lauren cried, but this time in sweet relief. She could finally see him. He was going to be okay. They were going to be okay.

 Only one visitor was currently permitted in the forwards room, so John took the opportunity to track down Vrana.

 


	10. Family

John pushed the cracked door wider and tapped lightly on the frame to announce his presence. Stepping in, his eyes quickly landed on Jakub Vrana. To his relief, the blonde was upright in his bed, despite sagging shoulders and drooping eyes. The knocking didn’t startle the forward, but it didn’t really seem to reach him either – which felt worse.

The nurse at his side glanced up as he entered, but returned to adjusting the bag of clear liquid he’d been hanging before the knock caught his attention.

“Are you a friend? Family?” the nurse inquired as he straightened up and turned to fully face John.

Glancing over at the kid whose eyes were glazed and unfocused, John sighed. “Some days it’s almost like he’s one of my sons.”

Without looking up for a response, John reached out and grabbed Jakub’s ankle. Maybe he was trying to ground Jakub. Maybe just himself. There was something about seeing the kid so very out of it that didn’t sit well.

He’d never seen Jakub concussed, never seen him high on pain killers. The kid had only been with the team a little over a year. But despite having emerged from his rookie season as a champion (which, that ages you pretty quickly to be honest and in a very different manner than the slow drawn out crawl of failing every year), the kid seemed so young to John and he honestly felt immensely attached and protective.

The nurse seemed to pause and let John have the moment before speaking up again. “He’ll be okay. We found a good amount of Flunitrazepam, or more commonly known as rohypnol, in his system. He’s had to deal with a slew of side-effects tonight because it doesn’t mix well with alcohol. Currently we’re flushing his system with saline to help dilute the drug quickly and keeping an eye on him. His hearts doing well which is really good news given the dosage, so for now we just want to keep him comfortable.”

As the man shared, John shifted closer, grabbing the hand free of the IV and gently combing through Jakub’s hair.

“How long will he be like this?” John asked quietly as his emotions began to swell and plunge within him.

“Symptoms usually last eight to twelve hours and based on what was reported, he’s about three or four hours in, so he’s going to be in and out of it till morning for sure and then we’ll keep him a little longer before release just to prevent any surprises.”

John glanced up, but kept his hands on the rookie. “Can I stay with him tonight? He’s from Prague. He doesn’t have any family here.”

The nurse smiled warmly and nodded. “Yeah that would be fine. Do _you_ need anything? I can bring a pillow, some blankets. Get you set up in case you decide you’re over the chair,” he offered.

A surge of gratitude washed through him. This was surely going to be a long night and in the midst of worry and shock and rage at the situation his friends – no, his family- had experienced, it was nice to know they were all going to be cared for.

“Um, yeah. That would really, that would be really great,” John replied, trying his hardest to convey relief and gratitude. “Thank you. For taking care of him. For just, thanks for being here.”

As the man left, John’s gaze drifted back to Vrana who had drifted again. His eyes fluttered and a small whine escaped his lips before he settled.

“You’re okay V,” John whispered. “You’re okay.”

 

John startled awake to the sound of yelling. The bright red numbers of the digital clock flashed 2:13AM at him, but more demanding was the young man currently panicking in front of him.

Scrambling to his feet, John did his best to put himself in Jakub’s line of sight. “Hey, hey buddy. You’re okay. You’re okay Jakub. Breathe for me buddy,” he cajoled.

Jakub didn’t seem to see the defenseman hovering worriedly. “I am where? I am where?” he gasped out, hands clawing at the blankets draped over his legs. As he recognized the pull of the needle in his arm his eyes darkened, lip pouting forward in confusion. It was stuck to him. It hurt. He didn’t like it.

John recognized the moment Jakub zeroed in on the IV and dove forward to grasp his wrist. “No Jakub, that’s helping you. It’s good okay? It’s good. Don’t touch it okay? Don’t touch,” he pleaded.

Relief crashed into John as help came in the form of the night shift nurse. She swept in having heard her patient’s cries of alarm.

“Hey sweetie,” she greeted calmly. Something in her tone pierced through Jakub’s hazed mind and he stilled for a moment, wrist dangling in Carlson’s grasp. “You’re safe here Jakub. Can you sit back for me?” she asked sweetly.

John watched stunned as Jakub settled back into the hospital bed. He released his hold on Vrana and stepped back to let the petite brunette settle his teammate. She stepped in close and calmly spoke in low tones. Repeating continuously that he was safe, that he was cared for.

The woman took the moment to check over his charts, attach a new bag of saline, and give him a sip of water. She bustled out only to return in a blink with a freshly warmed blanket to wrap around the young man.

“Saline feels sends a chill through the body,” she quietly explained to John as he watched on. “This will keep him comfortable and the weight of it should be comforting as well. It could still be several more hours of confusion for him, and he may never fully recall what happened tonight.” She sighed and turned to fully face John where he hovered. “You did well. Don’t hesitate to hit the call button in those moments though.”

John nodded and watched as she stepped out of the room once more. His head felt like cotton and his shoulders ached from the angle he’d fallen asleep in. After a moment of eyeing the couch against the wall and the pillow and sheets settled neatly upon it, he couldn’t resist.

Just as his mind began to drift into dreamland, he felt a warm blanket settle over his long frame. Before he fell asleep he briefly hoped that Lauren was being taken care of just as well up on floor 4.

 

 

 


	11. Thankful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come here V,” he demanded softly. For a moment, Jakub stared, eyes shadowed with confusion. But then he resolved to just obey the veteran. The Czech tucked his feet beneath him and crawled carefully over, snuggling gently below T.J.’s beckoning arm. He sniffed again, trying to cut off the emotion that seemed so volatile these days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it on this one. Maybe wrapped up in a rush, but I was done. Hope you enjoy the last moments of angst for our boys.   
> Sorry it wasn't more.

“It’s kind of funny,” T.J. began as he settled into his plethora of pillows on the couch in their living room. “You can’t remember that night, but I can’t seem to forget it.”

He followed the offhand comment with a bitter laugh, but Jakub who had nuzzled in on the opposite end of the couch just shot T.J. a saddened gaze.

The Caps were playing tonight on the road against Tampa Bay, but the two wouldn’t be on the ice any time soon.

T.J.’s torso still ached, wrapped in fresh bandages. He’d quit on the pain killers, but his range of motion remained minimal. The deep throb beneath his stitches wouldn’t let him forget, but he’d made significant steps towards recovery just by transitioning from the hospital to home.

Despite his progress, the paperwork on the coffee table detailed the frustrating reality: his season was over. It would be months before he’d be cleared for ‘no contact’, much less a game. The wound aside, he kept jolting awake in the night, hands scrambling to reach Lauren. Exhaustion hounded his days and anxiety disturbed his nights. Even Leni had crawled onto his lap one morning and asked him if Lauren had put makeup under his eyes. Yes, they’d gotten that dark.

Vrana, on the other hand, had been battling his own version of the trauma. League policy required a week long absence following the intake of non-medical drug use, willing or unwillingly experienced. The days following the incident were littered with pain. His head throbbed constantly, his shoulders would ache and throb and his first night home he’d awoken in a panic because his legs had gone numb. It’s been two days since his last physical symptom, but that didn’t mean he was okay.

On top of the recovery was the psychosomatic battle. Anxiety buzzed under his skin and guilt came in waves. He couldn’t remember anything from driving downtown until he’d awoken with John Carlson at his bedside in the hospital with news of T.J.’s attack. An attack that was very much his fault as far as he was concerned.

Ultimately it would be safe to say that the two wingers were a mess. Lauren had called Jakub around 9am and insisted he come over while she and the girls took a week to visit some family. “If you’re both going to be miserable, you may as well do it together,” she’d told him.

Now cuddled in for the long haul, the two had been stewing quietly as the television rambled on about marine biology on the discovery channel. Neither had actually tuned in.

“T.J. I’m-,” Vrana cut himself off with a deep shuttering breath. “I’m sorry okay. It’s my fault and I never should’ve. I’m not that guy you know? And now the world thinks I’m the next Patrick fucking Kane or Seggy, and I’m not. But it was enough. Enough to fuck your season and I’m just really sorry T.J. I’m really, fucking sorry.”

Jakub had choked up as his monologue progressed and T.J. did his best to pull himself upright, to reach out for the younger man.

“Come here V,” he demanded softly. For a moment, Jakub stared, eyes shadowed with confusion. But then he resolved to just obey the veteran. The Czech tucked his feet beneath him and crawled carefully over, snuggling gently below T.J.’s beckoning arm. He sniffed again, trying to cut off the emotion that seemed so volatile these days.

“You’re right,” T.J. began. He rushed on when he felt the blonde tense. “You aren’t Kane or Seggy, or any of those guys. You’re a fucking victim. And I’m glad I was there. I’d take this all again if it kept you safe Vrana. We’re brothers. And that doesn’t stop when we leave the Verizon Center. And I’ll be the first to tell the media that you did everything right that night. Okay? I mean, you’d think one of us would’ve thought to call the cops, but things got ugly quick and maybe hindsight really is 20/20. But that’s on all of us. You, me, Lauren, even Jen who we roped into this mess.”

As T.J. rambled on, Jakub had slowly unwound until he’d relaxed fully against his fellow winger.

“Thanks. Still sorry. But thanks. Glad you’re such a fucking warrior.”

Oshie barked out a laugh and hugged the blonde. “Damn V, we’re going to have omit that you don’t actually remember anything because I could use you puffing me up. For the record, he owned me.”

Shrugging, Vrana chose not to even respond. He just tucked in and before long drifted off to sleep.

The sun had set by the time John reached the Oshie home. He inserted his key into the front door and quietly wandered into the living room. John froze in the entryway as he peered down at his two friends. He took a moment to gaze fondly at the precious sight of the two curled around one another on the couch. They needed this.

Without waking the two, the defenseman worked his way to the kitchen to heat up the food Gina had prepared for them that afternoon.

 

 

T.J. carefully unscrewed the lid to his water, took a long sip, tightened it back on, and set the water bottle on the table in front of him. As ready as he could be, he looked up at the sea of reporters before him.

“I know the media has their own version going, but I wanted to just give a statement on what really happened January 4th. Jakub went out for a few drinks, nothing crazy. We had a few days off. Someone slipped a drug in his drink and the moment he realized something was off he called me for help.”

He took a breath. Another sip. Carried on.

“We didn’t want to attract undo attention. Figured we could quietly pick him up and go get him checked out. When we got there, my wife Lauren, she felt something was off. It was. A man and a woman were attempting to, I don’t know, kidnap Jakub. We don’t know why. But, the police got the man and I’m sure that’ll come out later.”

Another breath. Another sip.

“The man um, he lunged for Lauren. And I stepped in. I threatened to call for help and that’s when he pulled out a knife. I made a call. Lauren’s my life. Jakub’s my brother. And I wasn’t going to just let this guy do whatever. Umm, I think Lauren called 9-1-1, but I got stabbed and a stranger stepped in to help us. We’re grateful for her help and for the quick arrival of the first responders. We were cared for so well by the city of Washington. Jakub also recovered well. We’re glad he’s back in the lineup tomorrow.  I’ll be out recovering until summer. But mostly I’m thankful to be alive. Thankful we have the rest of our lives to look forward to.”

Questions erupted, but T.J. had said all he’d come to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Jen later became dear friends with the Oshie's. She never treated them like celebrities.  
> -Jakub hit a slump upon returning and with the encouragement of Holtby and Bowey, he began attending counseling. It helped immensely and allowed him to work this his guilt and fear. His hockey reflected the healing and he finished the season putting up record points.   
> -Oshie recovered completely without complications. He and Lauren also worked their way through counseling as individuals and as a couple. He trained hard through the summer and can't wait to get back with the team.   
> -T.J. and Jakub decided to press charges. The "large man" was named Evan Michaels and he'd struggled with mental illness throughout his adult years. Something in his mind had convinced him that he could pull of a ransom situation with the Capitals organization. He was sentenced to 3 years in prison on charge of attempted kidnapping in the first degree and assault with a deadly weapon, plus a string of other minor charges.


End file.
